


Hellfire

by ixsmellxapples



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bellamione Cult Ilvermorny Cup, Bellatrix is Frollo and is obsessing over Hermione, Discord: Bellamione Coven, Discord: Bellamione Cult, F/F, Hunchback of Notre Dame AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 01:43:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20107117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ixsmellxapples/pseuds/ixsmellxapples
Summary: Hunchback of Notre Dame AU.This gypsy just wouldn’t leave her head. Ever since she had danced this utterly blasphemous dance Bellatrix just couldn’t get her out.





	Hellfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LindaOnASkateboard](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaOnASkateboard/gifts).

> This was written on my phone and is unbetaed. So all mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

Bellatrix was pacing around on the cold stone floor of the almost empty room. There wasn’t much in here but a table and chair. And a giant roaring fireplace. Frustration caused the woman to groan. 

This gypsy just wouldn’t leave her head. Ever since she had danced this utterly blasphemous dance Bellatrix just couldn’t get her out. 

She had always prided herself in being better than the common man. In being above such things as desire and lust. But then Hermione danced in that marketplace and it had felt as if she had danced just for Bellatrix. She could still see her. Feel her. Deep within her soul. Like a permanent footprint. 

No amount of prayers had changed her growing obsession with the girl. And prayed she had. All night. But a dirty gypsy girl that wasn’t worth the dirt she walked on caused a burning sensation inside her chest Bellatrix hadn’t felt before. It was confusing and unsettling. Bellatrix just had to have her. She wanted to bury her fingers in the light brown locks that were almost as wild as her own. Touch the perfect curves of her hips as they swayed to the rhythm of music and rip the flimsy clothes off of her body. Touch the skin she just knew would be softer than the silken scarf in her hand. The only reminder that they had even met before.

Bellatrix was a righteous woman. She took pride in her faith and her beliefs. Not everyone was created equal. And she had to lead those misguided peasants towards the light. Save them from themselves. But not even Bellatrix herself was perfect. Or Hermione would finally leave her every waking thought. 

The fire burning brightly in the fireplace caught her attention. The flickering flames almost looked like_ her _. That dirty gypsy girl. Tempting Bellatrix to touch her but being sure to end up burnt if Bellatrix gave in. But she stepped closer to the flames regardless. Her fingers reaching for the licking flames and welcoming the heat. The heat increasing only made her desire more intense. This was hell. Torture. Bellatrix didn’t know what she had done to deserve this. All she had done was serve God. Spread His word and made sure that His rules were enforced. 

That witch must have cursed her. Bewitched her somehow. It wasn’t her fault. It couldn’t be. Maybe that scarf she was still clutching in her free hand. Maybe that was the root of all her problems. Perhaps it had started this damn curse. Planted the seat of desire deep inside her belly. But Bellatrix couldn’t bring herself toss it into the flames. Not yet anyways. 

If God created the devil so much stronger than mankind then Bellatrix wasn’t to blame. The smoke from the flames was burning in her eyes by now from standing too close. But she barely noticed. It was nothing to the raging hellfire inside her. Scorching her very soul. Tempting her into sin. 

Hermione would be hers. Had to be. She just had to have her now. That witch would regret ever putting that spell on Bellatrix. This had to end. She would give her a choice. Be with Bellatrix or burn as the witch she was. It would still be mercy in comparison to how the gypsy girl tormented her. 

Bringing the silky scarf to her face Bellatrix buried her nose in the fabric. It still smelled of her. And it only made her desire burn that much hotter. 

Reluctantly she lowered the scarf again. There was only one problem. 

Somehow Hermione had escaped Notre Dame, free to roam Paris again. Instead of hidden away behind thick stone walls. Where Bellatrix knew exactly where to find the girl at all times. 

But Bellatrix would find her. _ Had _to find her. Even if she had to burn down the city of Paris to turn that gypsy girl back up. If God or Satan had to tempt her so badly then she wouldn’t resist. She would welcome the girl. Make her hers. And hers alone. Or burn Hermione right in the marketplace where the gypsy had managed to bewitch Bellatrix in the first place. Bellatrix would give Hermione a choice. Give herself completely to her or burn on the pyre. It would absolve her from her sins. Either would be showing Hermione mercy on Bellatrix’ part. 

Bellatrix tossed the scarf in the ever growing flames which immediately engulfed the thin fabric. Just like Hermione had done with Bellatrix’ thoughts. She felt as on fire as the scarf was. 

“She will be mine. Or she will burn.”


End file.
